


The Sum of Us

by Ausp_ice, Devi_ark



Series: We Are RK [4]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Anti-Android Sentiments (Detroit: Become Human), Connor "Denial" Anderson, Gay Disaster Gavin Reed, M/M, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sharing a Body, mind sharing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:20:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24740689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ausp_ice/pseuds/Ausp_ice, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devi_ark/pseuds/Devi_ark
Summary: Nines and Connor must adjust to life as separate individuals once more. But an entire month together as nearly one entity has left them changed, for better or worse.Everyone says that things should go back to normal, and yet- they're not sure that 'normal' is what they want.--This is the sequel toWe Are RK, please read that before starting this fic.
Relationships: Connor & Upgraded Connor | RK900, Connor/Gavin Reed, Hank Anderson & Connor, Hank Anderson & Upgraded Connor | RK900, Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed
Series: We Are RK [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1621717
Comments: 23
Kudos: 77





	1. Individuality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five days after separation, they're still connected.

**RK800 #313 248 317 - 52 "CONNOR"** **  
** **MAY 26, 2039** **  
** **PM 01:02**

"Why are you _actually_ typing with the keyboard?" Hank's inquiry starts Connor out of his focus, and he looks over. 

"I'll finish the report either way, this just reduces my speed, so by the time I'm done, you'll be finished reading." He gestures back to Hank's screen, and the lieutenant shakes his head. 

Hank snorts. "Nines hasn't rubbed off on you in that sense? Considering he's all about being efficient and everything." 

"Guess not," Connor replies absently, glancing over at his brother's empty desk. Both he and Gavin have the day off today, and they are likely spending it together- now that they can.

The look on his face must say something, because Hank's expression pinches with an emotion Connor can't pin down.

"Something buggin' ya?"

He straightens in his chair, meeting his dad's eyes. "No," He replies, before turning back to his terminal. "We have an interview for the Carel case in a few minutes, right?" 

"Uh-huh. You know you're doing that thing with your hand again, right?" 

Connor looks at his hand. He's pressing his thumb to the side of his index finger, rubbing them together. He stops immediately, putting his hands under the desk. "What thing?"

Hank gives him an unimpressed look, but blessedly, leaves him be. For a few minutes at least, until he says, "You know that it's fine if being apart from Nines feels weird, right?" At a lack of response from Connor, Hank continues. "It'll probably get better as time passes- things'll get back to normal eventually, yeah?"

A frown finds its way onto Connor's face. "I don't…"

"Hey," Chris approaches their desks, sparing Connor from articulating a proper response, "Interrogation's ready for you two."

"Thanks." Hank says as he stands and stretches. Connor joins him and they head down the hall.

"You wanna go for it? Guy's not keen on androids- might not talk to ya."

Connor hums, and looks back on interrogations with anti-android individuals and how well they had gone. On occasion, he did have to step out of the room, but-

Nines' memories are there too, as if Connor had been with him during them, but they feel more distant, so he knows he hadn't been. His brother had a higher success rate of dealing with these kinds of people and-

_Only slightly. Our percentages are very similar._

Oh. 

_Sorry._ _I d_ _idn't_ _mean to-_

 _I don't mind,_ Nines assures across their connection. _Besides, wasn't it you that said 'there's always a chance for unlikely events to take place'?_

_It was. Okay, I gotta go before Hank notices._

A familiarly fond exasperation comes through their connection before Connor pulls himself back to reality, only to see Hank raising an eyebrow at him. 

That exasperation was probably Nines knowing that Hank probably already noticed, huh.

"Don't get lost in your head during the interrogation at least, yeah?" 

"Got it," Connor says, earning himself a squint. He smirks. 

Hank rolls his eyes. "Alright, good luck, you little shit." He waves Connor off as he heads into the observation room to watch.

Connor put his hand on the interrogation room scanner to open it.

He takes a breath and steps inside.

* * *

**RK900 #313 248 317 - 87 "NINES"** **  
** **MAY 26, 2039** **  
** **PM 12:40**

"Hey, tin can."

Nines opens his eyes to see Gavin coming out of the door of the cafe, carrying a bag with his lunch in addition to a cup of what is most likely coffee. The detective makes his way to the table that Nines is currently sitting at- a metal table shielded from the sun by a large umbrella. "Hello, Gavin," he returns. 

Gavin grunts, before dragging out a chair, sitting down, and pulling himself back in with noisy scrapes of the chair's legs against the ground. He immediately pulls a box out of his bag, popping it open to reveal a grilled cheese sandwich and carrot cake muffin.

Nines looks at the sandwich. 56 grams of carbohydrates, 15 grams of fat, 645 grams of sodium… He looks at Gavin.

"Wha'?" He says around a full mouth. 

Nines lifts an eyebrow. Gavin thankfully swallows before he attempts to speak again. "Don't look at me like that," he gripes. 

The eyebrow climbs higher. 

Gavin throws a napkin at him. It flutters uselessly between them. "I can eat what I want! Grilled cheese is fucking delicious so you can tear it from my cold dead hands," a pause, and then, "you can't even enjoy it, anyways."

"I suppose that is true," Nines remarks dryly, before looking at the sandwich again.

Gavin clutches it defensively. "You're not actually going to, are you?"

Nines hums, straightening slightly and moving to lift a hand up. He's rewarded with a squeak as Gavin pulls himself out of Nines's reach. At this point, Nines can't help the smirk teasing at the corner of his mouth. "Relax, Gavin. I'll let you eat your sandwich."

"How _generous_ of you." 

"I know."

As Gavin returns to eating, Nines sinks back into his seat.

Unbidden, he finds himself recalling a few of his interrogations. Strange, he thinks- and then he realizes what's happening when Connor's voice filters into his mind.

****

The images along with the storm that usually accompanies his brother's thoughts coalesce into a clear conclusion: Connor thinks he's not as capable as Nines, when it comes to interrogating individuals that despise their kind.

 _Only slightly._ Nines thinks back to his brother. _Our percentages are very similar._

 _Sorry,_ comes across the connection. Always so apologetic. _I d_ _idn't_ _mean to-_

_I don't mind- besides, wasn't it you that said 'there's always a chance for unlikely events to take place'?_

_It was._ Some of the thoughts ease, but they feel like bandages on a dam to Nines. _Okay, I gotta go before Hank notices._

He almost sighs, as they've both been in their head long enough that Hank should have definitely noticed- were he standing nearby.

Gavin had certainly noticed.

"I can hear you thinking from here." He remarks. "Your LED was blinking and all, too."

"Connor had erroneously contacted me. He was concerned about his performance in his upcoming interrogation, involving an individual with anti-android sentiments." 

"Erroneously…" Gavin mutters. "Fucking thesaurus." He turns back to his sandwich, turning it in his hands. "That link or whatever you two have—you said it's subconscious?" 

Nines hums affirmatively. "Yes, we tend to be unaware that we connect until we are already exchanging thoughts…" He blinks, as an alternate visual input seems to blend with his own—the table he's sitting at is suddenly—the interrogation room, as Connor focuses on the smooth surface to gather his thoughts. 

_He's not cooperating…_ comes Connor's thought. 

It only takes a moment for Nines to pre-construct his own actions, were he there instead. _Oh. Hm, thank you- that's a good idea._

A wave of gratefulness filters into his mind as Connor continues his interrogation, and Nines refocuses on Gavin. He'd been saying something, so Nines plays back the recent memory internally: " _Like you guys are still sharing the same headspace?_ "

Ah. Yes. "Something like that, we suppose…" 

Gavin's finished his sandwich, and has moved onto his muffin. 

"Not gonna go get that fixed? What if you guys mindmeld during a shootout or something, and mess each other up?"

Nines frowns. That does seem inconvenient, and yet. "We… don't wish to change it." He feels, also, an echo- the sentiment mirrored in his brother. 

Gavin straightens, leveling an assessing look at him. "Is the whole," He gestures his hand, "-loneliness thing kicking in?" 

Right. They'd mentioned that. "It might… be." Nines gazes absently into the distance, algorithms calculating dialogue options for the interrogation, combining with Connor's own to determine the action that would likely result in the best outcome. 

Gavin purses his lips slightly. "Do you-" He hesitates. "Do you think the two of you might have gotten, well. Dependent on each other?" 

As soon as they process the question: "No- that's… we're not-"

"You're doing right now, aren't you? You didn't unlink? Disconnect- whatever."

"There is no option to disconnect from Connor. We simply… are."

His human sighs, and slouches in his seat. "You've been saying we."

Nines blinks, "So I have."

"Is Connor here, then?"

"In a way, but he is placing more of his focus on his interrogation."

"So then, are you _there_? With Connor? You seem really distracted, you know."

"I'm still aware I am sitting here with you- but- Connor is dealing with someone he's not sure how to interrogate effectively. I may have been constructing scenarios for him to use."

"May have," Gavin notes dryly. "Right." He crumples up the papers his meal came with, and after he's thrown them into the proper receptacles, Nines stands and follows him out of the restaurant. 

For a moment, they walk down the street side by side in silence- until Gavin breaks it unexpectedly. "You know, it's not that surprising if you two are a little, teeny bit dependent right now. After spending a month as pretty much one person, and dealing with the whole shitload of almost dying." He looks back up at Nines. "This shit takes time, and that's fine. If you need to talk to anyone-"

"We're fine," Nines interrupts. And then he pauses. Reconsiders. Amends his statement to: _"I'm_ fine, to my knowledge. I think Connor is still troubled by… certain events before his deviation."

Gavin's face pinches. "Right." After a pause, "Is it the same stuff as- during the storm?" 

"Perhaps. That's certainly one part of it."

"Not like it's, uh. Any of my business. But. Is he… talking to anyone?"

Nines snorts. "Oh, no. Believe me, I've tried. As much as he seems to think that I am enough, I am not qualified to handle such a situation. I am glad I can support him, but…" Nines sighs. "I. Worry." 

He's startled, suddenly, when he feels a hand slide into his. Nines blinks, turning to look at Gavin. He's not meeting Nines' eyes, and he's certain his face is 3.8% pinker. Heart rate is slightly elevated. "If it helps, I think he'll be fine for now. With shit as bad as he got, I don't think pushing him into a therapist's office will magically fix everything- 'specially if he doesn't want to. Gotta take baby steps, and not like, panic- if it feels like you're walking backwards- or, not at all."

"I… yes. You're right, of course," Nines murmurs, his grip tightening on Gavin's by a nearly imperceptible 1.3%. "Thank you, Gavin." Nines is struck by a sudden urge, then- unexpected, but not unwelcome. He leans over, brushing his lips briefly over Gavin's temple, before leaning away. "Thank you," he repeats.

Gavin's face turns another 4.9% pinker, and he ducks his head a bit. "Yeah, n-..." and the rest becomes too mumbled to be intelligible sounds.

Nines can deduce what he says, though. A faint smile finds itself forming on his lips, as they continue on their way, hand in hand. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Auspice: Chapter art is posted on dA [here](https://sta.sh/0pk7o2vqgsk)!
> 
> Deviark: Some shennanigans we were up to while writing the chapter X3
> 
> Hank: Are you alright?  
> Connor: "No," I said. You know, like a liar.  
> Hank: I love you, Connor, but you're really obvious  
> Connor: If I say I'm fine, I'll trick myself into being fine!  
> Nines: Your mind is a fucking disaster.
> 
> Connor: Nines can do it. Can I??  
> Nines, from across the city: you can do it boo <3
> 
> Connor, havin Nines' help during the interrogation.  
> Hank: Huh, never seen Connor use that technique before  
> Hank: _Squints_


	2. Inconsistency

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A quiet evening at home.

**RK800 #313 248 317 - 52 "CONNOR"** **  
** **MAY 26, 2039** **  
** **PM 05:41**

Connor turns his head when the door opens, catching Nines coming in. 

"Good evening, Hank, Connor."

"Hey, Nines," Connor calls out at the same time Hank also says, "Hey." 

Hank is slouched on the couch directly across from the TV, with Sumo curled up next to him. Connor, meanwhile, is seated on the other couch bracketing the coffee table, perpendicular to Hank's seating. Nines approaches and leans over the back, arms folded on the seat, behind Connor's head. 

"Hello," Nines says, again, softer, tilting his head over to the side so they can look each other in the eye. 

Connor reaches over his shoulder to pat Nines on the arm. "Welcome back. How'd your date go?" 

"Quite well. Though, we should abduct Gavin at some point so we can cook something healthier for him. I fear his diet may be as concerning as Hank's."

"Hey," Hank grumbles. "I resent that. Haven't I been eating healthier, anyway? Not like I can avoid it, with both of you breathing down my back." 

Connor perks up. "You have! I have also noticed that your blood pressure has dropped from 133 over 84 to 128 over 80 since I first checked! Your energy levels have been more consistent throughout the day, and-"

"I get it, I get it, Con." Hank groans. "My robot sons have made me healthier. Congratulations, you can be proud of yourself."

Connor beams. "I am!" 

Hank drags a hand down his face, sighing heavily- though Connor can tell he's got just the slightest smile at his lips. "Yeah, whatever. If you really want to bring Gavin over, Nines, that's fine. Guess I should get used to him being around if he might be my son-in-law one day-" He freezes, clipping his sentence short, before a series of complicated emotions cross his face. "Okay, that is not a thought I need to be having right now." 

A snort sounds from behind Connor. "It may not be for a while yet, Hank," Nines says. "While our relationship has progressed significantly from our initial hostility, we have yet to do much more than spend time together casually."

"Great," Hank huffs. He looks up, then. "But you're, uh… you've been good? He's been good?" 

"Yes," Nines confirms, "We're doing fine, Hank." 

Hank grunts. "You know," he starts after a pause, "I wanted to ask, but I kinda wanted you both here. Connor, you were using a few interrogation techniques I only see Nines use, or at least- he prefers. Is that because of…" he gestures at them vaguely.

"Oh." Connor glances up at Nines. _We never mentioned our link._

Nines blinks. _No, we did not._

Connor looks back at Hank. "Nines gave me some suggestions when I wasn't entirely sure how to proceed- that man didn't seem very receptive to some of my own techniques, so I tried something different."

"Hm." Hank looks at them with a contemplative expression, and then nods, "Yeah, fair enough." He then gestures to the TV, "Nines, you wanna watch the game with us for a bit?" 

Nines glances over to the TV for a moment, seeing the basketball game Connor and Hank have been watching since they got home. "If you don't mind," he says, "I'd like to grab my tablet first? I'll stay for a bit, but there are other things I'd like to do at this time."

Hank waves him off. "Yeah, 'course." 

"Alright. I'll be just a moment." Nines pads up the stairs, and Connor can pick up the sounds of him going into his room and- he could probably preconstruct it- grabbing his tablet. 

When Nines returns, his tablet is in his hands, and he sits down next to Connor. Once he's settled, Connor leans on his brother's shoulder, and Nines tilts his head against Connor's.

The three of them sit comfortably together, Nines reading, and Hank yelling at the screen when his team screws up, cheering when they gain a point or three.

As the game goes on, Connor runs the data through his processors, calculating probabilities. "I don't think your team's going to win this time, Hank."

"Shut up, Connor," Hank says, eyes glued to the screen. "Just you wait. You'll see."

"If you say so." 

The probabilities continue to fluctuate as Connor factors in the exhaustion of the players, the morale as points are exchanged, the positions. As the game approaches its end, the probability of Detroit Gears winning dips even lower. 

"Hank-" Connor starts.

"I know what you're gonna say, Connor, and you're wrong."

"Actually, considering that I was only going to mention probabilities, I can't be wrong. Still, statistically speaking, there's always a chance for unlikely events to take place."

"Is it statistically unlikely that you'll shut up so I can watch my team win?"

Nines doesn't lift his eyes off his tablet, but he remarks, "Yes."

"Hey," Connor complains, and Hank shakes his head with a smile.

The last eight minutes and thirty-seven seconds then become very interesting.

Hank's team is behind by 13 points, and Connor can tell how exhausted they were with the game, however- players seem to gain a second wind, and score enough points that bring them up to their competitors, putting them back on a near-even field. Within the last minute, the Detroit Gears are two points behind, trying their best to keep the ball in their control- when someone tosses the ball across the court and it neatly swishes into the basket.

"Hah! Fuck yes!" Hank stands in his excitement- making Sumo glance- and then points at Connor, smiling triumphantly, "Fuck your probabilities!"

Connor rolls his eyes. "I did say there was a _chance_. He could have missed and then they'd have lost." 

Nines snorts softly, clearly amused, before shutting off his tablet. "I think that was enough excitement for me this evening," he pats Connor on the shoulder, and Connor sits up, freeing his brother. "Call for me when dinner is ready?" 

"Sure, Nines," Connor nods. "Hope you have fun with your book?"

"I will. Later, then," he says, before slinking off, heading up the stairs. 

"I should get started on dinner, now, actually- I found something new-"

"Oh boy, what this time?"

" _Nothing extravagant_." Connor stresses, because the last time Connor found a recipe Hank had never tried, Hank… did not like it. To put it lightly.

He wanders over to the kitchen, setting out the ingredients he needs, but when he grabs the basil he pauses, as the container is empty.

"Did you put the basil container back in the cupboard when it was empty?" Connor asks Hank, who makes a questioning sound before a quiet, 'oh'.

"Yeah, probably did. Sorry."

"It's alright, there's some in the garden I can go get." He'd meant to refill it, before, but he must have accidentally deprioritized it after he and Nines were separated.

Heading to the backyard, Connor easily finds a basil plant that has plenty of leaves for his needs. As he collects as much as he deems optimal, a notification appears on his HUD.

**CONNECTION REQUESTED FROM WR400 #641 790 831…**

**ACCEPT?**

**⊳ YES**

**RK800 #313 248 317 - 52** **CONNECTED**.

⊳ Hi, North- what's the occasion?

⊳ _Wanted to see if we could catch up sometime, since I haven't seen_ you _still._

⊳ _That, and Markus wanted me to talk to you about an upcoming thing._

⊳ The housing project? 

That had come up on the news recently, Connor recalls. 

⊳ _Yeah, Markus wanted all the revolution leaders to help out with this one for the publicity._

⊳ _Can you come?_

North sends the date, time, and location, and Connor knows he should be able to make it, and tells her as much. However… 

⊳ I don't know about "revolutionary leader"- Markus did all that.

⊳ _With_ our _help- mind you. And remind me again how many androids you got out of CyberLife Tower?_

Connor never counted an exact number, leading the front while others went through the tower waking everyone else they could find. Thousands, at least. The media reported somewhere over a million- but that could very well have been an exaggeration.

At his lack of an answer, North continues.

⊳ _Yeah, that's what I thought. And hey, even if you don't agree with the definition, it's a day we all get to chill and just build a house for someone that needs it._

⊳ Okay. I'll make sure Fowler knows.

⊳ _Great. Now that that's over with- how have things been? Getting back into old habits and whatnot?_

⊳ Yes, I am. Hank's letting me cook for him again, and my garden is in better shape.

⊳ _That's good to hear. How's Nines?_

⊳ Adjusting, as one might expect.

⊳ _Tall, dark, and brooding as always?_

Connor chuckles aloud.

⊳ You should see him when he and Ripple talk.

⊳ _Har har- what about Connor? Is he doing better now?_

Hm? Connor answers the repeat question without thinking too much about it.

⊳ Alright, I guess. 

⊳ How are you doing yourself?

⊳ _Bored as fuck. Politics suck._

⊳ I don't envy your position.

⊳ _Good, I don't either. I already have a different job in mind, for when Markus doesn't need my help anymore._

⊳ Really? What have you thought of?

⊳ _Somewhere in law? Probably a lawyer, so I can verbally kick people's asses without having to kiss any._

Connor snorts, shaking his head at the mental image.

⊳ You'd be very good at it.

⊳ _... Thanks. I gotta go, see you soon?_

⊳ See you.

**CONNECTION END**

Connor hums softly, returning his attention to the basil in his hands. 

_North as a lawyer…_ that's an interesting thought. He thinks of North standing dramatically, pointing a finger and shouting _"Objection!"_

He blames Hank for insisting on introducing him (and Nines) to the "cultural phenomenon" of the _Ace Attorney_ series. In all seriousness, though, he thinks she'd make an excellent lawyer. 

Connor should probably get back to making dinner, though, so he stands up from where he was kneeling, making his way back inside with the jar of basil. 

**—**

**RK800 #313 248 317 - 87 "NINES"** ****  
**MAY 26, 2039** **  
** **PM 06:16**

Nines signals to the tablet to turn to the next page. He's settled on his bed, reading, and he intends to remain so until Connor and Hank are finished preparing dinner. 

Only a few minutes pass before a notification appears on his HUD.

**CONNECTION REQUESTED FROM WR400 #950 454 437...**

**ACCEPT?**

Oh. That is not Connor. He supposes it _has_ been some time since he's last spoken with Ripple- it's not too surprising that she's calling. He sets his tablet onto his bedside dresser and sits up before he answers.

**⊳ YES**

**RK900 #313 248 317 - 87 CONNECTED.**

⊳ Ripple, hello.

⊳ _Hey! You reading anything good?_

⊳ Eon, right now. I haven't reached the climax yet- but it's interesting so far. How has your work been doing?

⊳ _Keeping me busy, that's for sure! I was just talking to North, and Jericho's looking at doing some stuff outside Detroit, so I've gotta look for designs more popular outside Michigan._

⊳ I imagine that's helping your creativity?

⊳ _Not when there's_ too many _options! You should've seen the mess I made this morning!_

At that, Ripple sends a visual message, of one of her mannequins that she uses to size fabrics. It is… something. He can certainly see the design intent, but there was simply too much going on at once. Too many colors, too many embellishments. Nines supposes _someone_ might like it, but as he prefers more minimalistic designs, himself… 

An attempt was made, in any case.

⊳ Well… that's certainly unique.

⊳ _But it was UGLY._

⊳ It was.

⊳ _So, my dumpster fire aside, you still just trucking along?_

⊳ It's not like life will stop without me.

⊳ _Har har- what about Connor? Is he doing better now?_

⊳ Alright, I guess. 

⊳ Hank's allowed him back into the kitchen now that I am not 'forced' to assist, and he is able to work on his garden more carefully without my distractions.

⊳ It is… different, being apart, but we believe that it will take time for us to re-adjust to…

Nines pauses.

⊳ … Being ourselves, again. I suppose.

⊳ _That's good to hear. How's Nines?_

Strange phrasing—the question feels oddly distant, though, interacting with a different thread in his processors. He answers regardless.

⊳ Adjusting, as one might expect.

⊳ Are you too busy for me to stop by the studio? Perhaps I could help draw the focus of a line of clothes?

⊳ _Would you? That'd be a big help!_

⊳ Of course. 

Nines transmits his schedule, and receives Ripple's shortly after. 

⊳ _Maybe this Saturday? That's two days from now._

⊳ That is acceptable. Keep in mind that I may still be called in on a case; crime does not take a break on weekends, unfortunately.

⊳ _Hey, as long as I finally get to see you, that would be good enough for me!_

⊳ Oh, Echo's here, that's my signal to go home for the night- see you Saturday!

⊳ See you then.

**CONNECTION END**

Nines doesn't immediately pick up his tablet when the call ends. He's looking forward to meeting with Ripple again, though his mind is on the strange question in the middle of the conversation. 

Well. He can deal with it later. He's getting to a good part in his book.

Soon enough, he gets a ping from his brother that dinner is ready, a bit before he hears Hank shout, "Hey, Nines, come get your blue!"

"Please at least say 'blue blood,' Hank," Nines hears as he makes his way downstairs. 

"Why say many word when few word do trick."

Nines dies a little inside, and he feels the sentiment reflected in Connor's mind. Once Nines is in sight, Connor lifts his face out of where he was holding it in his hands, shooting Nines an imploring look. _Nines, can you believe this man?_

_No. Absolutely ridiculous._

Connor snorts, and Nines lets the corner of his mouth quirk up into a smirk. 

"Hey," Hank says suspiciously. "What are you saying behind my back."

"Nothing you don't deserve," Nines answers easily.

"Wh- hey!"

Nines ignores him and joins them at the table, sitting on his brother's right side with Hank opposite to them, already beginning to eat with a sour expression. Nines holds his drink with his right hand, bringing his left under the table to grab Connor's right hand. His brother seems to understand Nines's intent, and initiates an interface without a word.

 _Something wrong?_ Connor wonders across their link.

 _I was on a call with Ripple earlier,_ Nines informs him, _and it felt like I had briefly connected to another call._

Nines can feel as Connor thinks of his own call with North. Their timestamps overlap, they realize—Connor spoke to Ripple during Nines's call, and Nines spoke to North during Connor's.

They hadn't even noticed. Or they did, but didn't realize what had happened, exactly, until now.

_...Maybe we should get this looked at, if we interrupt each other's calls?_

_We didn't fully notice at the time._

_But others might. How often do you say 'I guess' over 'I suppose'?_

_...True._

Some emotion shifts across their link, that when Nines tries to identify it, Connor mentally flinches, and Nines stops.

_Sorry._

_It's okay, that's a reflex for you,_ _I know you didn't mean anything by it._

They snap out of their connection entirely when they hear a snapping along with a, "Hey? Where are you two?"

The two of them slip their hands out of each other's grasp. "We are right here, Hank," Nines says.

Hank squints at them. Particularly their arms, which he probably saw moving when they pulled away. "Were you two holding hands just now?"

"Is that a problem?" Connor wonders, tilting his head.

"Nah." he shakes his head, "You two just looked like you weren't mentally here, and like- if you don't wanna sit here I won't make ya."

Nines stiffens, somehow sitting up _even_ straighter. "We wouldn't be here if we didn't want to be, Hank," he quickly assures. "We enjoy your company- we were simply clarifying something."

"Alright." He shrugs. "So, anything interesting happen in the hour or so it's been since we talked?"

Nines huffs lightly. "Well…"

The three of them ease into their usual dinner conversations after that. At some point, Connor's hand snakes into Nines' again, but they don't interface. It's… comfortable. 

Nines supposes fixing their internal link can wait. For now, he enjoys being in the company of his family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hank: If you wanna leave I won't keep you.  
> Nines, internally 🥺: Dad, noooo
> 
> The art is on dA [here](https://sta.sh/020t7axxw6mr)!


End file.
